The glow of the screen was the only light in Liam’s room. Two AM, the world outside hushed, but inside, a different kind of hunger gnawed. Not the growl of an empty stomach—that had been dealt with hours ago via a stale pop-tart. This was the craving. The specific, unshakable, synaptic itch for a double cheeseburger, medium fries unblocked .

The waitress’s faceless gaze felt gentle. “You don’t. That’s the rule. One meal per soul. The unblocking is temporary.”

“Then why does it exist?”

“This isn’t real,” Liam whispered.